Revelation by Bobi Gentry Goodwin

Author:Bobi Gentry Goodwin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2019-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

17

Angela

The Sanctuary was bursting with energy this morning. Joy pulsed from clapping hands and shaking tambourines. Church members celebrated the goodness of the Lord on this Thanksgiving Day. The building was crowded, and the ushers diligently manned the floor. The doorkeeper outfitted in black and white shifted her white glove–covered hand toward the front of the church. Angela and Sharyn followed her direction down the middle aisle. Angela elbowed her sister as she spotted another white glove perched in the air directing her to move forward. Both ladies smiled as they squished into the tenth pew near the front. Angela leaned down and placed her handbag on the floor, accidently bumping the parishioner next to her.

“Excuse me,” Angela apologized, and leaned forward, attempting to adjust to the sardine-can arrangements. She could hardly see the pulpit from behind the display of hands raised in worship.

Members of St. John’s were standing as they finished the morning hymn, and Angela still couldn’t find her voice. “I got Jesus on the inside, and He is working on the outside,” Angela mouthed in unison. She couldn’t help but notice the watchful eye of Reverend Martin Broussard looking on from the pulpit. Angela dodged his glance and darted her eyes toward her mother, Rose, perched in the third row of the choir stands. She sat down hard next to Sharyn and crossed her legs, trying not to crowd the woman next to her.

“Look at Mama.” Angela leaned into her sister’s ear. “I haven’t seen her in two weeks.”

“I hope she sings my song today. She killed it last week, the whole church caught the fire.” Sharyn took a paper fan from the usher walking down the aisle.

“I bet she did,” Angela agreed. Rose sang tenor and was a featured soloist in the harmonious mass choir. Angela and Sharyn’s voices, high and squeaky, were the exact opposite of their mother’s deep and soothing voice. “What did she sing?” Angela grabbed her sister’s fan to cool herself off from the oversized camel sweater she’d picked out at the last minute.

“‘How Great Thou Art.’ Where were you, anyway?” Sharyn elbowed her sister.

“Now, you know I wasn’t gonna come to the revival last week, even if the mass choir was on the program. Martin was the keynote speaker for the entire week, and I need to shut down the rumor mill. I’m not trying to deal with that,” Angela whispered.

“I think you’re avoiding him altogether.” Sharyn patted her sister’s leg. Angela knew Sharyn was right. Ever since their date, she’d been feeling more uncomfortable around him. She couldn’t look Martin in the eye anymore, convinced he could see the darkness bubbling within her, like an oil spill tainting the ocean. Fornication had taken residence in her flesh. She used to feel bad, but last year the guilt had subsided. Recently it had resurfaced, complete with panic attacks.

“He has no right to inquire about who else I’m dating. Who does he think he is? I’m not Potiphar’s wife. I’m having fun and not with him, mind you.

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